Growing up with anxious tendencies, a brain that would never shut up and a heart that felt everything way too much, I was a wreck most of the time. The most common phrases used to describe me have always been "worrywart," "dramatic," and "crazy." Yeah, I was fun to be around.
I've spent a long time trying to fix these less than awesome aspects of my personality and have it pretty under control. Until I'm faced with something totally new and unknown and usually a little scary. Then I get sent into orbit.
This weekend we're going to a wedding about 4 hours away. We'll stay overnight and be home mid-day Sunday. It's going to be fun and I'm excited to go. But I'm also freaking the hell out about my babies who will be staying behind. It's safe to say I'm in full-blown crazy mode, feeling like bundle of nerves, bursting into tears and talking to myself at random.
It's a fun game that I know all too well.
My stupid body cannot get it together and is pulling me in both directions. It's like one side knows that it will be good for us to get away. It's a great time to do it and they will be fine with my parents. The other side is like, "What in the eff are you thinking? This is the worst idea ever and you will regret it. Do not go, stay home!"
Because I'm not ready. Because I'm afraid that they're not ready. Because it's Mother's Day.
Nowadays, nine times out of 10 I'm able to trust the more reasonable side and get over my issues. I deal with the emotions of it all and just let it go. I learned somewhere along the way that whenever I don't listen to the logical side, I regret it. But even the pain of past regrets isn't enough to stop the war in my brain this past week.
Going to the wedding is the rational, sane thing to do. But it is hurting my heart and I really don't want to. Except that I do. It will be fun and we need it and we're already committed so that's not cool. Part of me is terrified that I'll fall back into my old ways and just not go. It would be so easy and so typical of me, but disappointing to many, including CJ.
It brings me back. I'm 18 years old, sitting on the floor of my dorm room, a hot mess of sweat and tears and begging my Dad to pack all my crap up
because there was no way in hell I was staying there.
He almost
did it, but instead, he waited for and helped me deal with my stress - to process it and
breathe. And then it was over. Two hours later I was having dinner with
my "new friends."
I can't even being to fathom right now how different my life
would be if I had actually gone home that day.
Today, I pretty much decided I wasn't going. I was loving on my babies and telling myself that people would understand, we've got twins, I'm still nursing, it would be too hard. But then I realized I was doing it again. I was about to miss out on something simply because I was terrified of the what-ifs and unknowns.
So, I cried. And then, I went out and bought new shoes. I spent $35 on myself at Target and bought a cute pair of shoes to go with my fabulous Jude Connally dress. I even bought nail polish since I should have gotten a pedicure (needed a hair cut and color too) but I
just kept putting it off as part of not wanting to go.
But I am going, too-long gray hair and all. And I will have fun because if there is anything in this world I need right now it is a night away. Even if it means I will miss my babies so incredibly much that I'll probably cry a few hundred times and try to facetime them every ten minutes during the reception.
I finally realized something today: they need this as much as I do. It's supposed to be hard because we are each others world right now, but we can't be everything for each other, not forever at least.
They need to see that it's ok to get dressed up and go out and have fun. Even when you're a Mom. Especially when you're a Mom.
They need to see that it's ok to be nervous about something new but not to let it ruin what could be a perfectly wonderful experience.
They need to experience making memories with their grandparents without Mom nearby. It's one of the best parts of childhood, especially with my awesome parents. They will get spoiled and probably be nightmares for us but it will be worth it.
They need to know that when I leave, I will come back and that bad things do not always happen when someone goes away for a bit. This is something I still struggle with. Considering we haven't been apart for more than 8 hours since they came home from the NICU 21 months ago, I'd say it's time.
Wish me luck and pray I don't wake up Saturday "sick" or flat-out refuse to get dressed like I used to do when I was a kid/last year.
Xo,
Maigen
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